There's a Knife
by SweetDragonSeeker
Summary: There's a knife lying on the table in the Athena weapon shed...
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own nothing to do with this. (Percy J. that is.)**

_**Just a little something that came to me in class. Kinda weird, but it's the first thing I've managed to write in days. :P**_

Long after Percy, Annabeth, and their friends have died...

There's a knife lying on the table in the Athena weapon shed, celestial bronze with a worn sheath and a handle polished from many uses, it lies there, gathering dust. Many new half-bloods have entered the shed since it was placed there, young demi-gods with no knowledge of the recent history of their kind. They have picked up the knife and held it, blowing off the dust and turning it over in their palms, and they have asked its name and heard its tale. They listen in silence, and their eyes grow wide, and when the story is done they place the weapon back in its place on the table and move on. They choose another weapon, a weapon whose history is quieter, and they leave the shed, knowing that the knife has no name but the Cursed Blade.

Hundreds of young half-bloods have entered and left the shed, each one drawn first to the dusty shape of that same knife, as though called to hear its tale. But each one leaves the knife behind, knowing that it is not meant for their hands. And so the Cursed Blade remains in the old shed, awaiting the day when a demi-god will arrive who will lift it from its place and listen to the story, and who will not replace it upon the table but instead usheath it and gaze upon the blade that reaped the soul of a hero, a half-blood who will accept its history and its prophecy-given name, and who will put it once more to the purpose for which it was meant.

_**So, whatcha think?... No flames, thanks, though what there is to flame here I don't know... just don't do it anyway. Thanx! ~Seeker**_


	2. Ray

**Don't own Percy J. Seriously. **

**Okay folks, here goes nothing. Took me a while to get up the courage to work on this. Anyway, thank you all for the fabulous ideas, you'll have to wait and see which one I used! Anyone who's ideas I used I've decided to credit at the end so I don't spoil the story. Enjoy!**

**SSS**

Ray stumbled, fell, got up again, the cries of her protector ringing in her ears as he urged her on.

"Just a bit farther, c'mon, run!"

The monster at her back snarled, shrieked as its prey sprinted past the tall pine at the hill's top, and howled as arrows pierced its flesh, fired from strong bows held in practiced teenage hands. Ray gasped and fell to her knees, breath coming in pants, hair coming forward to hide her face behind a sleek silvery curtain. People ran all around her, voices calling, and an icy cold canteen was pushed into her hands. She sipped the liquid inside, a sweet taste like chocolate sliding down her throat, warming her from the inside out, allowing her to stand up straight, take stock of her surroundings.

Kids were everywhere, orange shirts practically glowing in the sun, weapons held expertly in the hands of youths who should've been to young or inexperianced to weild them. A boy paused at Ray's side, tall and lean, flaxen hair short and spiky, with warm quiet blue eyes and a dirt-splattered orange shirt.

"Welcome to Camp Half-blood." his voice was warm and somehow familiar as he held out his hand. "I'm Zack, son of Nike."

A crowd was gathering as they shook hands, the sound of their steady beating hearts making Ray want to put her hands over her ears and block the noise. Instead she nodded, murmuring softly. "I'm Ray...Raylene." she paused, unsure, knowing that they needed to know- "Daughter of Thanatos."

There were gasps, but soon smiles and curious looks replaced the shock, whispers rippling through the crowd. "Good thing that one's done-" "She'll be the first-" "Didn't know he had kids-" The words landed sharply on Ray's ears, and she tuned them out, looking instead at the approaching centaur, focusing on the soft clop-clop of his hoofs against the ground. He approached sedately, the crowd moving to make a path as he came. He introduced himself as Chiron, and bid her welcome, asked a girl with black hair who's name was Koreen to show her around. The girl nodded, green eyes calculating, and led Ray away, showing her the cabins and the activities areas. Then she led the way to a small shed behind the Athena cabin and pulled open the door, gesturing for Ray to follow her into the dark interior.

"Pick a weapon." she murmured once they were inside. "Any weapon."

Ray moved carefully among the table and shelves of weapons, looking at them each in turn. She didn't get the urge to pick one up, however, until she saw a knife lying on the darkest corner on one of the tables, sheathed in worn leather. She reached for it, aware of Koreen's cool gaze on her as she did.

"You don't want that one."

Ray paused at Koreen's quiet words.

"Why?"

"That's the Cursed Blade. It was given to its last owner with a promise. Then the promise was broken. The giver chose to fight against the gods. He tried to raise the Titan King back to power, himself serving as the titan's host. By the time he realized his error, it was almost too late. He had swum in the river Styx, and the titan was taking control of his body. So he took the knife he had given, and with it took his own life. The blade reaped the soul of the hero who broke his promise, as was foretold in prophecy." Koreen's voice faded on a haunting note, and Ray supressed a shiver. But she was Death's daughter; it took more than a simple ghost story to truly frighten her. In silence she reached out again for the knife, picking it up, unsheathing it, holding it up to watch the bronze blade gleam dully in the faint light. She could sense the death clinging to that blade, the memories of lost life etched invisibly into the metal. She could feel Koreen's eyes on her, surprised and wary, but she didn't care. This knife had lain unused too long, punished for a destiny handed to it by the Fates themselves. Ray fingered it gently, admiring the sharpness onf the blade. It felt right in her hand, as though it had always been there. She smiled. This weapon was strong; for her, she knew, it would sing.

**SSS**

**Whatcha think? Review and lemme know. No Flames. Thanx! ~Seeker**


	3. Visions

**Still dont' own it.**

**So here's the next chapter. I only have a few comments: to all my reveiwers, thank you very much for all your imput; to my one anonymous reviewer: I know that Thanatos having a child is not a likely scenario according to the old writings, but in those Apollo was also revered as the golden god who could tell no lie, wonderous in both song and verse, and in the books he's not very good at either of those, as his haiku is terrible and he technically lies by taking the guise of 'Fred', so I just decided to mess with Thanatos. I hope you and all the others will enjoy the rest of the story.**

**SSS**

The sun rose slowly over Camp Half-Blood, dappling the cabins with splashes of golden light, chasing away the darkness of the previous night, but Ray hadn't slept. She sat quietly on the steps of the Thanatos cabin, watching the shadows shrink, contemplating in silence the events of the previous day, putting her memories in order. It all seamed like a dream, a day experianced through the eyes of another unreal and strange. Her protector was dead. She could sense it, though no one had bothered to tell her. Old Brighton Rivermore was gone, reincarnated into nature. A smile flitted across Ray's face. He would be happier now. He'd been so sick when he came to get her, hoping that the pain would end. And he'd died doing his duty. He couldn't have wished for a better death.

Ray continued to think as the camp awoke around her, half-bloods spilling out of their cabins in anticipation of breakfast, until a long shadow fell across her, blocking out the light of the sun. The sound of a strong, steady heartbeat thrummed against her eardrums, rhythmic and soothing, and, not looking at the person before her, Ray tilted her head, wondering why it was that a daughter of Death was so attuned to the sounds of life. Her visitor remained silent for a moment, then spoke, his familiar voice temporarily drowning out the sound of his heart.

"Ray? You should come to breakfast."

Ray glanced up at him, strands of silvery hair falling into her storm-grey eyes, and gave him a small smile, shaking her head.

"I'm not going to breakfast."

Zack looked slightly surprised, cocking his head at her in confusion.

"Why?"

"Too much noise." It was true. The sounds of the beating hearts of the all the demi-gods who would gather in the dining pavilion would defen her, drowning her own thoughts beneath their thunderous drumming.

Zack stared at her, and Ray returned his steady gaze with a mysterious half-smile gracing her features. After a moment, he nodded and gave her a slight smile in return before heading off in the direction of the pavilion, walking with a light step that she would never have thought possible in one of his height. She watched him until he vanished into the pavilion, then turned, trying to return to her previous thoughts, but finding it impossible as pain assailed her head and her vision blurred; images flashed in quick succession behind her eyes, blocking out everything else. Everything except a voice begging for her help.

**SSS**

**So?...As usual, please review and let me know what you think, but no flames. Thanx to all of you! ~Seeker**


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